Diamonds are Forever
by Mia-Purdy
Summary: What if Christine and Erik had, had a childhood together? What if Christine witnessed the gyspsies torment to him? But if she forgot him, would she remember who her real angel is, or would another try to take his place? Starting with the gypsises both must make hard decsions, and learn to trust. But sometimes trust is given to the wrong people... ALW/KOPIT/LEROUX influences E/C
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone, so this 'Diamonds are forever', I'm writing this story for a wonderful author called Christine Stein who gave me the story line, it is a great storyline and I hope I can make her proud by writing this, and hopefully I will do it justice. I'm so thankful that she wished for me to write it and totally amazed by her kindness.**

**Obviously I'm still writing Diamonds in Persia, and that is my priority for now, so this story will be updated 3 times a week tops, but I hope you can enjoy it and show me the kindness that you have shown me on my other stories.**

**My Christine is about 15 years old, and is much like Sierra Boggess :D**

**Thank you all so much, you are all so lovely!**

Chapter 1-Christine POV

I ran as fast as I could through the beautiful silvery woods, the trees all around me, their beautiful green leaves like a huge roof, my feet flew across the fallen leafed floor, making it look like a greeny copper carpet, I giggled as the leaves jumped up a my movements to tickle my ankles. I pulled my bag over my shoulder slightly as I jumped over a fallen log and hid behind a larger tree, it was in a beautiful clearing by it was a glittering lake, I wanted to run and jump into it, it was all so stunning, so much natural beauty was all around me, never had I seen such natural gorgeousness in all my life!

The countryside was such a difference compared to Paris, and I was so excited to see what else this adventure would bring. I was about to come out from my hiding place when I hear my Papa's voice, I covered my mouth, trying to stop the giggles.  
'Where, oh where are you Miss Christine?' my Papa's deep voice filled the woods and seemed to fill every centimetre of the woods. I giggled even more, not being able to contain them anymore, I peeked out watching my Papa look left and right, the large bag on his broad back, his round bearded face in a huge smile as always. He was beside my tree now; I pulled up the bottom of my dress so I wouldn't trip and leapt onto his back as he walked past.

'Oh there you are!' he laughed loudly spinning me around, I squealed delightedly.  
'Oh Papa! Put me down, are we nearly there?' I asked as he put me back on my feet, I spun slightly feeling dizzy, he took my hand.  
'Yes, we are nearly there my darling, isn't it beautiful here?' My papa kicked the leaves with his boots as we walked.  
'Its stunning Papa, I prefer it to Paris!' I smiled, I really did, we had left the city after the house had to be sold, Papa told me it was because the money stopped.

I don't remember my Mama, but my Papa had told me he had stopped working, stopped playing his violin so he could look after me, he hadn't wanted maids raising me, so put his violin to one side and only played it for me on special occasions, oh it was perfect when Papa played his violin, it was like a magic, when Papa played his violin I was sure that angels had taught Papa to play, he would laugh when I said that. But I was certain of it.

'Look can you see the camp from here, can you see it?' I followed my Papa's large hand and saw between the trees, a clearing filled with large white tents, and cages, my tummy went funny, it filled with nerves. I tugged on my Papa's hands.  
'Papa, I'm nervous.' I said quietly as we neared the clearing now, the sliver trees seemed to part making a path for us. My Papa stopped, smiling at me.  
'Christine, don't be this will make it easier for us. I can earn money and we will be fed and watered and we will have a home, I'm sure they will love you! I know I do!' My Papa pulled me into his arms, I held him tightly, I didn't know what I would do without him. I held his hand tighter giving it a squeeze as we walked through the parted trees. I could hear the voices now, they were heavily accented, we walked on through the clearing, the large tents on either side of us, a thousand smells filled my nose, strange spices and heat came from the huge fire pit which was situated in the middle of the grass, three or four children younger than me sat around it, poking the ashes with the sticks in their hands, they turned to look at me and Papa, they were olive skinned and very thin, their eyes like large black pebbles, the same colour as their glossy hair, they glared as we walked passed, I felt myself flinch slightly, looking down as they whispered.  
'Hello, do you know where your mama or papa is?' my Papa asked them, they all scrambled up, one of them lifted up a tiny hand and pointed to the largest of the tents, it was huge compared to the others, like a true house, the trees surrounded all the tents completely making it look like some strange fortress.  
'Merci.' Papa called to the children over his shoulder. As we walked I felt lots of eyes on us, they peered from out of the multiple tents, some people emerged, they came out, whispering and wittering, some of them spoke my language of French others spoke a quick fast language which I didn't know. I looked around as we walked, the hundreds of eyes glittering in their strange blackness. I tried to keep my eyes to the floor, my cheeks blushing; Papa squeezed my hand for comfort which i was grateful for. We now stood outside the huge tent, it loomed down on us, I let my eyes wander to the cages behind it, there were several of them, all of them covered, I was desperate to see what was underneath.  
'Are you okay Christine?' my Papa whispered as he went to open the tents flap.  
'I'm okay Papa.' I gave a weak smile, I was shaking slightly, I had never felt so nervous in my life!  
'Enter!' came a booming voice from the tent, I gave a little jump, Papa smiled at me and took my hand into the tent, I took a deep breath and couldn't help but gasp at the amount of beautiful things inside of it, it was so strange, on the floor was beautiful rugs and carpets covered in different patterns, shapes and sizes, until there was none of the long grass to be seen. There was a long bed covered in what looked like animal skins, and in front of us was a desk, covered in papers. I gave a little jump at what was behind the desk, a man, who was so huge I was sure he was a giant, he was as tall as he was wide, and the whole tent smelt strongly of beer and the bitterness of salty meat.

The man looked up, he gave a grin at Papa, showing me that he had few of his teeth left, his face was sweating although it was not that warm at all, his eyes were sunken in and of a strange grey colour as was his greasy hair, it was undecided not brown, not black, nor grey just rather dull. He was dressed much like the other gypsies in dusty coloured cloth, that looked very thin, not like my dress which was detailed with lace.  
'Monsieur Daae, a pleasure, I'm Timon.' He grinned, his voice sent shivers up my spine I clutched tighter onto Papa's hand, there was something about this man that made my tummy go light and funny, I was scared of him already though he had done nothing to me. My Papa extended his hand to the gypsy.  
'Now, there are few rules here, we move once a week, we keep our heads down and work hard. You and your daughter have your own tent, you will be expected to contribute to the gypsy lifestyle, and play to the best of your ability, I will take a twenty per cent cut from your earnings for my trouble of you travelling with us. I hope you find this well?' The gypsy said this all very quickly and seemed to loom over both me and Papa.  
'Qui, I understand.' My Papa sighed, picking up the pen and signing the large parchment before him.  
'Good, good, now come with me I shall show you around.' The gypsy beckoned us to follow him, we walked in his shadow Papa's hand still in mine. The gypsy, Timon, shouted loudly a strange hollowering noise, and the other gypsies came out from their tents, there were hundreds of them! All of different shapes and sizes. Some slight and beautiful, others old and toothless, but no matter what they all had this strange air of dainty beauty, like they were part pixie, all of them expect of Timon, who was quite the opposite.  
'This is Monsieur Daae and his daughter; he is a violinist and is joining our clan. You will treat him with respect or have me to answer to!' With that Timon turned away trudging of f back into his tent. The gypsies stood before us, all of them looking us up and down in a curious manner.  
'Will you play for us?' one of the higher pitched voices asked.  
'Certainly.' My Papa smiled cheerfully lifting his violin from its case, the gypsies now all sat around the fire, passing large platters of strange looking meats between them.  
'Go and sit my darling, perhaps you will make a friend.' Papa smiled, I sat shyly on the floor beside another girl, who took no shame in staring at me. Papa began to play, and the gypsies hushed, he truly was remarkable, he made the temperamental instrument sound like it was as easy whistling or clicking your heels. The sound was glorious and outside amongst the backdrop of the beautiful trees it made it even more beautiful, like the music and nature were winding together. The gypsies clapped when Papa finished, all of them looking delighted up at him. He smiled back at them, the rose from their grassy seats and praised him, my Papa was such a delight, he truly was a genuinely nice man. I rose to get to my Papa, but he was surrounded by gypsies young and old, who all were fascinated by his beautiful instrument and how he got it to make that glorious music, he laughed and took his time to explain. I sat on the log by the fire, most of the gypsies were around my Papa, apart from three children, not much younger than me, I was fifteen, they were at least thirteen. I was nervous, but decided to try and make a friend, to try and talk to them, Papa said we would have to stay for a while with the gypsies, then once we had enough money we could move back to Paris, so I thought it only right to try and communicate.  
'Bonjour.' I smiled at them from across the crackling fire; it let off fumes of spices and a comforting warmth. They turned to look at me, but after they had looked me up and down continued whispering. I felt my tummy drop. What were they saying? Perhaps they couldn't understand French.

'Hello?' I tried again this time in English, again they looked up but then began laughing and shaking their heads. I felt tears form in my eyes, I didn't understand, why were they laughing? It was awfully unkind of them, I bit my lip.  
'I only want to talk.' I said quietly, looking at my hands.  
'We don't want to speak to you, outsider.' The girl spat, her black eyes gleaming, she spun away her black hair glowing in the fire light, the two boys followed her. I pulled my knees to my chin, looking over the fire seeing that my Papa was still surrounded by gypsies, now letting them touch his violin, they looked at him in wonder as he smiled at me, I smiled back, I was about to go to him when I thought I heard something behind me, like a soft wheezing. I turned and saw nothing, well expect for the covered cages.  
They were away from the camp slightly, on a slight downhill part of the clearing. I realised I was alone and walked to them, silently, tucking my hair behind my ears. My eyes adjusting to the dusk light that glimmered between the trees. There was a crack, and I nearly jumped from my skin, I looked left, praying that Timon hadn't found me, something told me I should not be seen looking at the cages, and especially not by Timon. But as I looked I had to stop myself from squealing in delight, there were three horses tied to posts in the ground, one of pure white, one of jet black and the other a bright chestnut, all of them fine and shining with stunning glossy coats.

I grinned and skipped over to them, they raised their beautiful heads and neighed at me, I smiled, giggling at the touch of the chestnuts velvet nose. I opened my bag and took an apple from it, biting it into three large chunks, and gave each of the beautiful creatures a piece. They licked their lips gratefully, I smiled, enjoying twiddling their manes, and scratching behind their ears. Then I heard a cough, I jumped, and spun expecting to be caught, but heard it again, and this time from one of the cages.  
I walked away from the horses and towards the large covered cages, something made me shiver slightly as I walked forward to the cages all of them hidden beneath a velvet red material, the coughing came from the middle one, my heart was racing I reached it, what was in it? What was making that strange coughing sound? I reached up touching the velvet and pulled it away, my heart hammering, the cage was before me now, I gasped and staggered back at what I saw.

In chains with his back turned to me was a young man, his back was covered in long scratches, they were bleeding heavily, the ruby red liquid trickled down his white skin, it was horrible. I couldn't help but stare, my eyes wide, as I couldn't help it, his back looked so sore. He was bare chested, his skin pimpled, I could see through the shadows of the trees fell onto his skin, through the bars. All I could see was his back, his arms were chained to the floor, as were his ankles which bled, why was he chained! I could see his hands, as I tightened my fingers around the cold bars. He turned to look at me, my gasp at the blood giving me away. To my surprise his face was covered with a piece of dirty grey material. I staggered back as his eyes one of blue and one of the deepest brown stared at me from behind the material, I was gasping loudly. His eyes, they were breath taking, like two pools, the blue was like one I had never seen before, so blue it sparkled, whereas the brown was so deep I was sure it was black, it was so strange. As the young man turned again, I heard him wince, the chains moving as he dragged his body towards where I stood. I fell to my behind and looked up reading the sign on top of the cage it read...  
THE LIVING CORPSE.

**Hope you liked the first chapter!**

**Please review and read.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you, you are all so precious! I must be the luckiest authoress ever to have such immense support from the first chapter!**

**Ohh yes as my wonderful reviewer newbornphanatic pointed out the chapter was like one giant paragraph, I updated from my ipad so there must of been a problem! Sorry forgive me?**

**I hope you enjoy it, and can you pleassseee with a Ramin on top give Christine Stein a PM and tell her what you think of her wonderful story line!**

Chapter 2-Christine POV

I scrambled up, tripping over the bottom of my dress, my mouth open and closed as I now stood facing the young man. I watched him reach forward for the bars of the cage, his skin was white, grunts escaped his body as he reached, I gasped at the length of his fingers, they were so long! Like thin sticks, white and lithe. The chain's which held his wrists and ankles rattled as he gave one more drag to reach the bars; I wondered why he didn't stand. I suppose I should have run, but as I looked up and caught his eyes, I found myself rooted to the spot amongst the silvery leaves which surrounded the cage. His eyes were so huge, like two giant orbs, the one of electric blue seemed to glitter, whereas the deep brown reminded me of coco, never had I seen anyone with eyes like that before, they were beautiful. His face was covered in that horrible material, and now he was looking at me properly I noticed just how dirty he was, his chest was splattered in filth, it was all black and brown, I was almost sure he was also splattered in blood. He looked like he hadn't washed in weeks. I dropped my eyes; he was staring at me still. I needed to say something, my heart was racing, and I was wringing my hands.

'Bonjour.' I said quietly, looking at my hands, maybe he would speak French, I wasn't sure, I thought it was worth a try. I avoided looking into is eyes, I looked at my hands, at the bows on my dress. There was a moments silence; I thought maybe he didn't understand. I looked up hastily, into those big eyes behind the strange mask.

'Bon-bonjour, have you c-come to laugh at me.' I heard quietly through the bars. I smiled a little, his French was perfect, obviously he was from the country like me. His voice was quiet, and his stammer was terrible, I smiled at him, feeling nervous for some reason, and desperately trying to not look at the cuts on his shoulders.

'I'm Christine, oh no of course I haven't come to laugh, why would I? Sorry for sounding rude but who are you?' I asked, putting moving a curl from my face. Again, there was an awkward silence for a moment, but then it was filled by the young man's coughing, it was the worst I had ever heard, it was like he was choking, it echoed against the trees, making it sound as if it was surrounding us. The young man, curled over painfully, his eyes clamped shut as he spat to the ground, I noticed there was blood in it, I gasped at this.

'Are you alright, should I get help?' I was scared for him now; he looked in a lot of pain. At this I watched him clutch at the bars of the cage desperately, his eyes wide now, and frantic.

'No, no, please-please don't get anyone.' He stammered again, but his voice was so desperate, I knew then and there to not dare move and get help! I nodded, but bit into my lip, his chest was rising and falling frantically, he looked very poorly, his ribs poking out beneath the grime, as was his probing collar bone.

'Are you sure, you look sick.' I was worried, but felt safer and took a step forward closer to the cage, and to the young man who clung to the bars, I noticed now around the chains on his wrists were big welts, bloody and sore. My tummy plummeted. He shook his head, the cover on his face moving slightly, but not showing anything, I wondered why he had that on. I wanted to ask so many questions, but Papa had always said that was not polite, and I had to get to know the person before picking their brains about absolutely everything. I felt the big eyes burning into me, and I looked at my feet, shuffling side to side.

'I-I'm f-f-ine.' He said slowly, his voice was strange, it was deep and rich, like a man's would be yet he was what, three, four years older than me, not a proper man yet anyway. His voice seemed fitting with the natural surroundings for some reason. I took another step towards the bars.

'What's your name?' I asked gently, mesmerised at how his bright blue eye twitched as I took a step closer. I was close to the bar's now, if I had put my hand out I would of touched them, now I faced them, they looked so cold and menacing, so harsh and uninviting, they were very close together, now I was closer the young man scrambled back slightly, hissing in pain, but still his eyes looked at me in wonder.

'My-my name?' his eyes were wide, I nodded, did he not understand. 'I don't have one.'

I gasped at this, he didn't have a name! That was dreadful, surely he did! He must of!

'You must have one, what did your mother call you?' I said with a sad smile, he looked so upset, his big eyes, the one that twitched in a strange way, and his body which was trembling, all made me wish to cry, which was strange, I didn't cry much, Papa always commented on how strong I was. On the mention of his mother, I heard him give a cry out, I staggered back as he flung himself to the floor.

'My-my mother she had many n-names for me n-none of them k-kind!' he gasped and panted for breath as if it was an effort to even get angry, he began coughing and spluttering.

'Okay, well I'm Christine, me and Papa just joined the camp.' I said quietly, his breathing was returning to normal now I noticed as if the great rage had surpassed him. I felt sad as I said about joining the camp, for some reason it had seemed to not be living up to my expectations. I had always thought the gypsies to be magical people, all of them light and dainty, like woodland fairies, but actually the gypsies here seemed rather lazy and not at all welcoming.

'W-why?' the young man was lying on his front now, facing me, he looked very uncomfortable, his long legs pulled to his bare chest, I noticed he was shivering, did he not have a quilt?

'Oh, my Papa plays the violin, and well we had trouble with money in Paris, it was our only choice. I don't like it as much as I thought I would.' I sighed, again the sadness washing over me.

'T-the violin?' as he said this the young man sat up, and his eyes sparkled, he looked almost happy. I nodded with a small smile.

'Do you play?' I asked nervously taking a step towards the cage, now close enough to put my fingers against the cold bars, I jumped at their harshness, they seemed to show me through their cold that they were things of cruelty.

'Y-yes, w-well long ago.' The young man dropped his head, his long fingers trailing on the floor of the cage.

'Perhaps Papa will let you play his violin, he's a marvellous teacher!' I smiled, gripping the bars, the young man's eyes sparkled as they looked into mine, but I didn't return the smile, a awful smell filled my nose, I had not noticed it before but now I was closer to the cage, and away from all the fine trees, I noticed it, it was disgusting! As if all the sweat, blood and dirt had been combined. I wondered where it was coming from, then looked at the floor of the cage. I wanted to be sick! It was covered in a layer of what I presumed was straw, but it was black with dirt, the corners were wet, and stank of urine, dark patches filled the mounds of wet and dirty straw, it turned my stomach, the young man's body lay amongst all that, a trail behind him where he had dragged his body through the grime. But before I could say anything about the cage, I felt the two burning eyes on me again.

'Y-your Papa would play for me?' he whispered, looking hopeful. I nodded with a smile, though tears filled my eyes, why was this young man in chains? Why was he all alone? Why was the cage so disgusting? And why was his face covered, his body bleeding, and his health very very poor?

'Y-you should g-get away, q-q-uickly.' The young man whispered his voice serious, shuffling away from the bars, showing his back to me, the long thin scratches all over it in my view.

'Why?' I asked confused.

'No one s-speaks to the Living Corpse.' He stammered, twitching. I was confused, who was the Living Corpse? But then I looked up and saw the sign again, the young man must of been. I admit he was very, very pale, and his physique was that of bones and skin, but he wasn't a corpse!

'I will speak to you, you've been the kindest to me so far.' I said softly, it was true, and though it sounded strange to admit it, though I had only been in the camp for what five minutes I had felt immensely lonely. The young man turned to me his eyes glittering behind the rage cloth mask.

'You c-called me kind?' he whispered. I nodded. Then the woods around me were filled with the most beautiful sound, it was like magic, I realised the young man was laughing, I closed my eyes, I couldn't help it! The noise was so beautiful, so rich and dark, but yet like a soft sweet, so compelling, so stunning! I pulled my cloak around me; it sent chills up my spine. I knew a little about music due to Papa, I had slept in the wings as a young girl of all the great opera houses when papa had graced the stages., the great orchestra's had been my lullaby's, I knew that this young man was musical somehow, and very very talented, even from his laugh, I wondered what his singing voice would be like.

'Yes, you are. Will you be coming to the camp, this evening?' I asked hopefully, again my question was met with laughter.

'N-no I stay here.' His voice was grim as he said this, grim and angry. My tummy plummeted I had hoped the young man would be joining us for supper, I felt comfortable around him, and was desperate to listen to him speak more, to understand him, and ask why he was in that disgusting cage. I sighed, and for a moment I just looked at the young man, without knowing started to hum slightly, against the wind, it was darker now, the trees losing their silver all around us, and the sun how hiding behind them like a giant shield. It was colder now, and I noticed as the young man with many cracking bones pulled himself into a tiny ball, that his skin was covered in goose pimples, and that he shook with cold.

Suddenly like a crack of lightening the peace around us was broken and I heard my Papa's worried voice calling for me.

'Oh no, he will be worried, I should go, I will come and see you again soon.' I said quickly to the young man, who looked at me shocked.

'You w-wish to see me?' he said confused, coking his head to one side, I felt embarrassed now.

'Oh well I thought-maybe I could get you Papa's violin to play if you liked.' I said to my feet, I looked up and saw the two big eyes closer to the bars where I stood, but he still looked nervous as he crawled closer. Papa's voice ripped through the woods again.

'Un moment Papa!' I called over my shoulder, hearing him getting closer.

'Y-you must go!' the young man said desperately but I could not ignore his shivers, I took my navy cloak of my shoulders and passed it through the bars.

'Here, you will be warm.' I smiled, the young man looked at me warily, as if I was handing him a gun. 'Please take it.' I said quickly, he crawled to me and took it gently, looking amazed, had he never seen a cloak before?

'For-for me?' he asked quietly holding the material, I nodded.

'I must go!' I said quickly, about to turn away.

'Wait!' I stopped and turned. 'Merci C-christine.' The young man said his eyes shining as he curled under the cloak. I giggled at the way he said my name.

I smiled and ran up the leaf covered hill towards my Papa's voice it was dark now, and slightly scary, but all I could think of was the young man, I hated how he was caged, it was so cruel, he need help, perhaps Papa could help him, I didn't understand why he would be in a cage, he was a human was he not? Then why the cage? Why was he left to basically die? I didn't know, but I felt comfortable around him for some reason, though he stammered, and seemed very, very nervous, he was polite and a lot kinder then any of the other people I had seen here. I wanted to see him again, I was so glad I had given him my cloak, I felt happier knowing he was going to be slightly warmer. I felt for some reason as if I could of spoken to him for hours, and even if there had been a silence it wouldn't of mattered. I heard Papa's voice again, he sounded worried, I could see the clearing now, as I sped, twisting and turning through the close trees, they seemed to be holding hands, their branches all entwined, I was panting for breath.

'Papa! I'm here!' I called through the tree's, not seeing him, but knowing he was close.

I then heard heavy footsteps coming towards me, the leaves moving frantically, I felt my tummy go cold. Who was it there? I didn't like it being so dark, so quickly, it scared me slightly. The footsteps got nearer, I was disorientated by the trees, who was it there? I squealed when I felt a hand on my shoulder, but turned and saw Papa.

'Christine, you silly girl!' he hugged me tightly, I smiled up at him. But then noticed he was not alone, with him was the large gypsy Timon, he towered over Papa, and was five times as thick, he made my knees hit each other, and my hands fly to my mouth. He seemed to stand out amongst the trees, well I guessed me and Papa did too, but something about Timon did even more. It was indescribable, he just didn't seem to fit in, nature seemed to be rejecting him. Papa's hand went into mine.

'Where were you Christine? Where's your cloak?' He asked worried.

'Oh I must have dropped it, I went for a walk.' I felt bad lying but I knew I shouldn't of been by the cages.

Timon grunted from behind Papa.

'I'm going to check the cages, we have quite a creature at the moment Daae, you will see him tomorrow performing, has to be caged as is a violent thing, but by lord does it bring the money! Be ready for tomorrow Daae, it will be your introduction.' Timon didn't speak like normal people he bellowed, making me wish to cover my ears. My stomach dropped at the mention of this 'creature' the poor thing, I had seen the state of the young man! That was hideous, so this creature would be in an even worse state by the sounds of it. But my stomach went cold, oh no! He was going to the cages, he would know! He would see that I had been there! Oh no!

I let go of Papa's hand and stood rooted to the spot, not knowing what to do, as Timon walked away down to the cages. Did I follow him and try to explain? Or not? I looked at Timon's back as it walked away, in his hand he held a long whip, it was black and had long throngs not the end which were knotted, I gulped. He was swishing it threateningly as he walked through the trees, he looked like a picture of horror. I gulped, no I wouldn't say anything about the visit to the cage. I pulled slightly on my Papa's hand, slowing up nearly to a stop.

'Christine are you okay?' he asked worried.

'Papa, I don't like it here, I have a funny feeling, something isn't right.' I said slowly, he hugged me again.

'It's just a new place my dear, you'll make some friends soon and you'll be fine, we really don't have a choice.' He said tiredly.

I prayed my new friend wouldn't be getting hurt or in trouble. I felt sick all of a sudden, I felt physically sick as it all came rushing to me, the smell, the blood, the cruelty of which the young man was in, yet he seemed so nice, I didn't like this feeling of sickness inside of me, it wasn't sickness, more like dread.

For some reason I knew something bad was happening to the young man with the covered face.

**I hope you liked it, and dont find it boring or too slow.**

**Im trying my hardest, as this and my other story are very very different!**

**Thank you all for reading, I really appreciate it, and don't forget to thank Christine Stein for the story idea!**

***reviewers get to cuddle Erik***


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for all your wonderful support on this story, it is a little strange writing the characters as youngsters, I usually write a very dark and older Erik, but in this story he is about 16 and Christine is about 13, it is quite strange writing a young Erik's POV, but here is my first attempt at it! I hope you like it!**

***storyline to Christine Stein***

Chapter 3-Erik's POV

I always wished if I just closed my eyes that I would wake up in my old attic bedroom, the one with the barred windows and the broken wooden bed. But I always wondered would that be any better than where I was? Because beyond the attic bedroom would be my mother, with her harsh words and slapping hand. No, I trembled, even my cruel mother was better than this place. I hated it here, it was a never ending hell, my mother had always preached to me the importance of god, as if I was more likely to perform sins just because I was different. I knew I was different, I was not that stupid, I knew my face was the reason I was in the freezing cold, soaking wet, chained down in the sinking cage.

I hated the cage, it was the most awful thing ever. It was like living in one of my nightmares, one that would never end. There was constant darkness around me even when it was light, but what made it worse was the chains. I loved the woods, the beautiful silver trees, the foxes that would skulk around my cage, their red coats shining, they ran free, dictating where they went, whereas I was trapped, chained and tamed, I would delight in watching them run, scratching in the dirt. In the winter, when the snows had came, I had watched their small fluffy cubs bouncing around in delight, though I had been freezing, shivering as the puddles of my urine in the corners had frozen, I had smiled and laughed, watching as they bounded along with fluffy heads and bright eyes. But then they would move, following their loving mother beyond the trees, I would try and follow them, but always, always hit the bars, the cruel hard, bars.

Hours upon hours had I tried to free myself, writhing, twisting, biting, but all it resulted in was the huge bruises and blisters on my wrists, so deep they were now a strange yellow around the edges and were beginning to stink. But never had the chains been removed, never. Since my first day amongst the foul gypsies. I had tried to run, lashed out, screeched for help as they had dragged me to the cage, but then as I had clawed and bit like a wild animal, the large body had descended upon me, the man who was every inch a villain, he been the one who when I had tried to leap upon him to escape, had brought the whip down upon my face, back, and arms, blinded by the long leather throngs, I had fallen, and then the cruel metal had been applied to my wrists.

But what I hated most of all was what I had to do. I hated my face. Oh, I hated it more than anything, all the pain I had, had all my life was due to my face. The cruel, cruel words from my mother, and all the pain I faced with the gypsies, I trembled at the thought. It was not simply whipping that I had to bare, other tortures so cruel I pretended they never happened, if I did not name them, they obviously didn't happen really, I convinced myself they happened in my head. But I was the Living Corpse, I was here to entertain. That was as Timon said my 'purpose in life' my face was the source of entertainment, I had been amazed when he had first beaten me to a pulp then told me that people would wish to look at my face, that they would even pay. I had been fascinated by this, but then it had happened. Then I had been chained up, like Jesus Christ on the cross, a metal collar strapped onto my neck, I could see and hear the crowds all around, the cover ripped away from the cage to reveal me to the audience, that's when the panic had kicked in, all those eyes. The cruel eyes, the ones all watching and judging me, the voices had consumed me, ugly and cruel as they shouted hateful words, I had tried to wriggle away, but then the hand had come and suddenly my mask was gone. Then, everything had changed, the air had been filled with screams, tears had formed in my eyes, I had had to get away, but no, I was chained, trapped, my bones had snapped as I had tried to free myself, screaming in pain, my roars of anguish lost against the screams of disgust from the crowd, it spooked me, sent me mad, vomit had dribbled down my chest.

Once, I had been taken down from the cross like position, only then had I realised what true trouble I was in, unable to crawl away due to broken bones, that night I had learnt through the rough hand of Timon and his long whip what true pain was like. Since, then being chained up seemed like a trip to heaven.

But that had been many months ago, now I sat huddled in the corner of the cage, which was now polluted with disgustingness, I felt like some sort of an animal living amongst my own urine, blood and general grime. But tonight there was magic in what were usually the dead woods. Around my shoulders was the navy cloak the one that smelt like strawberries, and roses. It was keeping me warm, but not only that it stunned me. It made me feel cosy, and comforted feeing I had never experienced before, I felt safe simply by wearing this. Its navy colour reminded me of the large eyes which belonged to the girl.

The beautiful, young girl. She had dazzled me, I thought I had imagined her, in my solitude I always imagined people coming to save me, or even simply talking to me. She had spoken to me! I didn't understand it! She had approached me, and spoken to me! She was like a unicorn, I had dared not to speak too much, I was certain if I had done, she would of disappeared. She looked like a beautiful unicorn, her white glittery skin, and big large navy eyes, like the dark skies of a warm summers night. She had taken my breath away. She had spoken to me like I was a normal person! She hadn't laughed, or thrown stones at me, or hit me, but just spoken to me, in the beautiful French language, I knew straight away she was not a gypsy she was much too beautiful for that.

She had asked me if I was coming to the camp, how I had laughed, she had thought I was normal. She had called me nice names, even asked my real name! Her voice ran around my head, it was soft and little, like a bell. It brought music into my mind, oh beautiful sweet music, how I missed it. I loved music, beautiful music, that was my passion, all I had in my younger days was broken violin to play in the attic, it had been broken but I had managed to make it work again, and play those beautiful notes, through them I could get my emotions to be released, I would let them fly around, my mother could not understand music, she couldn't read it like I could, or lose herself in it.

'Perhaps Papa will let you play his violin, he's a marvellous teacher!' Her beautiful voice had whispered through the bars, she wasn't worried about being so close to me! She didn't flinch away, and she said her papa had a violin! That I could play! I would feel music surround me once more! I would feel that release that only would come with music.

I didn't know how to thank this kind, kind girl. I wished to fall at her feet and tell her a thousand thanks. But instead I had stuttered like an idiot, I not only hated my face, but the way I spoke also, I just couldn't get words out fluidly, only when I sang would the words flow, but even my speaking was not normal, I had pauses as I struggled for words. God, she would think me such a fool, but words just hadn't come, bust even when I had stuttered, she still had remained just standing there looking at me holding onto the bars. But her eyes had not held disgust, or anger, or hatred, but just a sparkling delightfulness, it was very strange.

Then the shouting had began, I had flinched away, surely it was Timon, but in fact the voice was a lot softer and kinder then any of the gypsies. The girl had turned and gasped, it was her Papa, her eyes had lit up when she heard this voice, but then had turned biting her lip, and told me she must go.

But before she did, she had turned to me and passed me her cloak. Begging me to take it, I didn't understand, why had she wanted me to have it! It was hers I had nothing to give her in return, so why was she doing this? I didn't understand! I had wanted to give it back! I didn't deserve it! This kindness was unknown to me! Never had I seen it before, nor felt it! I had watched her skip away, I had to thank her, with all my courage I had called after her.

'Thank you Ch-Christine!' I had said her name, it was beautiful, it sounded so right on my lips, even with the stutter it was perfect. Nearly as perfect as her. I had snuggled into her cloak, amazed, stunned at this new feeling, she had talked to me! I had never wanted her to leave, but then I knew she was much to perfect for the gypsies, they would hurt her!

I had closed my eyes, thankful for the warmth of the cloak, as a light drizzle fell down from the heavens, trickling through the cage, making the black soiled straw around me go drizzly and even more grim. My knees were up to my chin, I curled under the cloak, it covered me completely. I let my eyes close, and I thought of the beautiful girl, Christine, I whispered her name time and time again, trying my hardest to say it without a stutter, growing ugly at how I just couldn't say it without a pause and several flinches on the 'h.' I shivered, my wrists throbbing as they bled.

'Ch-Christine, Ch-Ch-Christine, Ch-Chh-Christine.' I said again and again, nearly there, I would never tire of saying that beautiful name.

I was beginning to doze off, a dream filling my head, making the pain in my wrists go away, I was standing in a black robe, playing the violin, as Christine danced around me smiling, a beautiful navy dress twirling around her, as she smiled and giggled. It was unlike all my other dreams, this one was light and beautiful. It wasn't full of hate and anger.

Then my shoulder was ripped at, the cloak falling of me as I was flung against the bars, my eyes opening wide in shock, Timon standing over me, his teeth bared.

'So! A thief also!' he roared, I struggled back, the chains going tight I couldn't move away from his wrath. I cowered down. I heard it the whistle of the whip, I cringed waiting for its bite, it came I howled in pain. I felt the usual sting, the throngs hitting the soft skin of my back, I felt the blood begin to pour. Three more thrashes came, I began to scramble away.

'No-no-more!' I begged, dragging my body, reaching for the cloak. Timon raised his booted foot and stamped it down on to my long fingers, I screeched, he kicked the cloak away, picking it up.

'Oh, so you like the little white girl!' He laughed cruelly, his boot still on my hand, its weight crushing them. He reached down, picking me up by the wrist so I was able to taste his beer filled breathe. 'You think you fancy her monster? Well you're a beast!' he threw me down again, kicking me savagely, I scrambled back again.

'No, no one will look at you with love. You have a job to do! You are lucky I saved you, you have food here don't you?' as he said this he threw the lump of grey meat to the wet floor, the drizzle mixing with the blood on my back. I was so tired, agony filling me, I just wanted to die. I didn't care anymore.

'Eat your food Corpse!' Timon said in a sickeningly soft voice, kneeling down, grabbing my neck and forcing the meat down my throat, I gagged and vomited, the lumps were too big I could not swallow them; I choked and tried to spit it out, but found a large grubby hand covering my mouth, tears ran down my face, stinging the deformed skin. Timon gave a laugh as I gagged against his hand, the sick hitting his broad palm.

'Merci, me-mercy.' I cried, he let go of my neck, I vomited all over the floor, folding over double, tears rolling down my face. I was begging him for mercy that would never come. He laughed as I choked on my sick. My back stinging, my hand cracked and black already with bruising.

'Oh no, no mercy comes to corpses! Now, you keep away from the white girl, you see I have a little game to play with her, one that she will enjoy I think, but she is a pretty thing, and oh yes she will entertain me well!' Timon said disgustingly, licking his lips, grease washing from his hair to his face in the drizzle.

I felt cold and sick as he said this; he turned away, clutching the cloak in his hands. Leaving me shaking, the drizzle turning to a fierce rain shower, the water washed over my body, soaking my white skin, washing away the blood, but freezing me to my bones. I remained gagging on the floor. The aftershocks of a beating going through me, but something else was inside of me, a fear, but not for me, I was used to these beatings, to these tortures, but he had mentioned Christine, the beautiful girl, he said he had a 'job' for her. That made my every sense fill with a dread, I forgot my pains, my fingers which now pointed to the le, the blood which tricked down my sides, the sick I lay in and the freezing rain. I forgot it all, and feared for Christine, she had to get away! I had to warn her, I barely knew her, but a girl who had shown me kindness needed to be freed. No, she could not be like me.

I felt the darkness begin to take me, my shaking body, hacking with coughs, my wrists throbbing so hard I thought they might burst. I closed my eyes, and tried to think of a way to help her.

But how was I, I was a monster, a chained monster!

**Hope it was okay, and not too boring, I wanted you to get a feel of Erik's character.**

**So please my lovelies tell me what you think!**

**Thank you so much!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you for all your sweet reviews, I'm really excited about this story, obviously s I said Diamonds in Persia is my main story and if your reading it you'll know the story line is quite complex and takes a lot out of me!**

**I'm so sorry if you feel I'm not doing this story enough justice, the story line is beautiful and believe me it's going to be one heck of a story, so please I know its slow at the moment, please stay with me!**

**Once again the wonderful Christine Stein owns** **this story, she deserves all the credit!**

Chapter 4-Christine POV

I had woken up in the tent, snuggled close to my Papa, his large arms holding me tightly. It seemed silly a girl of my age sleeping in the same bed as her Papa, but last night had been horrible and my dreams had been haunted by the sad boy, the young man who I had given my cloak to, I had kept tossing and turning thinking of his shivering body, I hoped he was warm enough, I hoped the blood on his back was dried up now, and that he was not in pain. Oh I knew he was the poor, poor boy. I turned over, Papa was snoring, loudly as always, but it was such a comforting sound. I lay looking up that tents roof; I didn't feel comfortable at all in the camp. I had tossed and turned all night, but it wasn't just the boy, the whole night had been horrible.

Papa had taken me by the hand into the camp where the gypsies had all sat around a roaring fire, on seeing Papa they jumped up smiling begging him to play his violin, to teach them how to play too, he smiled and told them he would do so after supper, they all smiled eagerly, shuffling aside on their log seats patting the space beside them for my Papa to sit, I clutched his hand and sat beside him, the log was slightly slimy and I managed to slide of backwards, hitting the grass, the gypsies looked at me rolling their eyes, Papa laughed and pulled me up, I blushed frantically as I watched the young gypsies laugh at me meanly from the other side of the fire. The food the gypsies ate was strange, but nice nonetheless, I had been super hungry I hadn't eaten properly for a few days and hadn't the heart to complain to Papa when we were travelling, now there had been large platters filled with strange meats, some sweet some covered in sour sources, fruits were passed round also, everyone ate with their hands n cutlery was used, and I had smiled at how the sauce had covered my fingers. But half way through my second bite of the sweet meat, I thought of the young boy, and suddenly found it very hard to swallow. He was so skinny, I wondered when was the last time he had ate, and whether or not he was okay. I had checked that no one had been looking and tucked two slices of the meat into my dress pocket, if I saw him again I knew he would be hungry. Thankfully no one had seen. I had snuggled close to Papa by the end of the night and the gypsies had begged him to get his violin and as he had promised he rushed off to the tent to get it. I had sat awkwardly on my own, on the log which was wet and stick. I had noticed as I waited for Papa staring into the large fire, that the large gypsy the one who I had seen walking towards the cages was now coming towards the fire. My stomach went cold, and the gypsies who saw him, moved quickly to make a large space for him to sit, his brow was covered in sweat, he spat on his hands rubbing them together, throwing the whip to the floor, I noticed with a gulp that it had blood on the end of it. My eyes went wide. What was that from? Then I had noticed all of the gypsies eyes turning to look at my Papa who was no playing his violin, everyone watched and a smile had danced across my lips as e played, he was such a talented man, he winked at me as he played, the beautiful melody escaping the strings, I loved watching Papa play it truly was lovely to watch as his hands would make the bow dance across the strings. It made my eyes droop, for many years, ever since I was a little girl Papa had played his violin until I slept, and with the large fire and the heat that came of it, the thoughts of the sad boy and the heavy tiredness consuming me, I fell asleep on the log, closing my eyes.

But now I was awake and the wind was howling all around the tent, I snuggled further into Papa, I guessed he had carried me into the tent, as I had no recelation of getting up and moving to it. I wondered what the time was, judging from the darkness around me, I was guessing it was only early morning, but as I listened I could hear movement all around the tent, I thought at first it was the wind playing tricks on me, but then I realised it was in fact people's voices, loud and calling to one another, barking orders against the wind. I sat up, slipping from the tiny bed and trying desperately to not awaken Papa, the tent was very bare, so I had no worry of falling over anything save the solitary table. I crept to the flap of the tent, reaching forward to open it, but before I could it was ripped open by a gypsy hand.

'Timon says be ready, we leave soon.' It was a tall man, with no front teeth, he spoke in an heavy accent, I nodded at him smiling. I quickly changed my dress, into one that was warmer than the one I had been wearing, I didn't have much to choose from so decided on the dark purple, it had a high collar, and would go well with my navy cloak, then I remembered the young man, he had my cloak, I could hear the wind from inside the tent and feel it's cold bite, I prayed that my cloak had given him some warmth. I pulled my black cloak around me, tying it and then decided to awake Papa, I giggled and leapt upon the bed, tickling his sleeping sides, he raised his bearded head from the pillow, yawning with a smile, as I tickled him more.

'Bon matin mon cherie,' he smiled at me, rubbing his eyes, and sitting up, I embraced him tightly.

'Bon matin Papa, they say we have to leave soon.' I said sadly, I really didn't want to leave the tent, though it was plain and dull I didn't want to have to face the gypsies again, they seemed all so unkind and mean, not like the mystical creatures I had read about. I sighed, but then thought of the young man, and felt my stomach go tight, I would have to see him today, I couldn't help but wonder if he had even survived the night, I prayed with all my might he had, I needed to see him, I had to know why he was in the cage, why he was treated so poorly.

I quickly exchanged the meats and fruit I had stolen the previous night for the young boy and put them into my dress pockets as Papa changed, he didn't notice how my pockets were now full, he took my hand the other holding his violin case we left through the tent flap.

The weather outside was wild, the wind was whipping up a storm, I pulled my cloak's hood up as did Papa, but I noticed the gypsies despite the weather still had very little clothing on, they didn't even shiver, all of them rushing and racing forward, Papa followed after them as we reached the edge of the clearing where the trees were thick again, I saw the cages lined up and my heart stopped, all of the cages now had a horse attached to the front, no doubt used to pull as it might pull a carriage, I felt sad at this the horses were so beautiful, he cages looked heavy surely too much weight for the precious creatures to handle, but that was not the main reason I felt as if I was going to be sick, it was in fact that I knew one of the cages held the young man, the poor young man. All of them were covered, in different materials, so I could not see which one he was in.

'Come on!' Timon bellowed, the gypsies around us all raced forward and leapt up onto the cages sitting on their sides and behinds, some up the front with the drivers, Papa lifted me to the front of one cage, the driver was a young man who knew no French or English, he simply ignored me. There was much to my dismay no room for Pap where I sat, he gave me a kiss on the forehead, then raced off to sit on the back with the other gypsies who all fought to sit with him. Suddenly with a jolt the cage began to move, the beautiful chestnut horse who I had petted in the woods bore down and dragged the cage along, the young man half asleep holding the reins, the wind was still relentless and seemed to burst through the trees as we travelled along the path, we were the first cage so I only had the path before us to look at and the endless trees which had lost their magic. I then heard a staggering cough, at first I thought it was the wind, then I realised it was coming from the cage.

My heart stopped, I gave a look at the young man beside me who was leaning forward, holding the reins lazily now, his eyes nearly shut. I scrambled to the cage's side out of the carriage part, and now beside it, I froze once there, but found the young driver didn't even notice I was gone. I leant against the cage, not yet lifting the cover, but then the coughing began again, it had to be him! The young man I had spoken to. I nervously lifted the corner of the cover, and peered into the cage, through the thin bars, I gagged at the smell, squinting slightly at the darkness, then I saw him and nearly fell off the moving cage backwards, he was in worse condition than before, he was sprawled on the floor, and I could see his back which was purple! Not even skin coloured anymore, but bright purple with savage bruising, I could see his matted hair was very, very thin and short from the back. He gave another cough as he did so his ribs juttered out.

'Bonjour?' I said quietly. I watched him spin around much like he had done the night before, those two big eyes burning into me, the one of blue and the one of brown, I dropped his gaze immediately. He dragged himself forward, the chains rattling as he did so, he looked at me in wonder as he did so, coming neared to me. I tried not to look at his chest which was the same colour as his back, that same bright purple.

'Y-you c-c-ame back.' He whispered, his eyes holding confusion, I gave him a sad smile.

'Qui.' He dragged himself forward more now, I wondered if he could use his legs or not, then I noticed through the sludge on the floor that there was also chains on his ankles.

'W-why?' he asked strangely, as if not being able to understand why I would want to talk to him.

'Who made you bruised?' I said quietly, I bit my tongue afterwards knowing I shouldn't of asked such a question, but I couldn't help it, it made me terribly sad to think he was being hurt. He closed his large eyes as I said this, shaking his head.

'I-it-it doesn't matter.' he said fearfully closing his eyes, I watched as the tears escaped from them, I wanted to comfort him, I hated who ever had hurt him.

But before I could say anything a loud rumble came from his stomach, I giggled, as he looked ashamed, then at me in wonder, making me drop my eyes as he stared.

'Here, I brought you these.' I smiled taking the handfuls of food I had stolen and passing them through the bars, he did not take them.

'Y-y-ou got t-hese for me?' he asked looking scared.

'Qui, you looked hungry.' I smiled leaning further through the bars, he looked ta me warily, then took them.

'M-merci!' he said dropping the food to the floor and eating it as fast as he could, he gagged and choked as if involuntarily, tears rolled down his face, well the material that covered it as he looked in great pain.

''Are you okay?' I said quietly as he devoured the apple almost in one, his skeletal fingers clutching to it.

'I-I'm so, so hungry, th-thank you.' He breathed, shoving more meat into his mouth, his face expanding beneath the material as he filled his cheeks.

'You most welcome.' I smiled, then noticed that my cloak was gone. 'What happened to my cloak, did it not keep you warm?' I asked sadly, he looked up as I said this.

'I'm-I'm so sorry, he-he took it.' He whispered, looking down.

I didn't know who he was, but I hated them how could they do such a thing, taking away this poor young man's warmth.

'It's okay, I might have a spare quilt you could use.' I smiled, he ragged himself closer.

'W-why are you so kind to Erik?' he asked, his voice was so beautiful I could feel every word and syllable being pronounced.

'Who is Erik?' I asked confused. I watched his eyes widen.

'S-sorry. I' am Erik.' He whispered now.

I couldn't help but beam, he did have a name! He was Erik, what a beautiful name that was, beautiful Erik. It suited him, dark and mysterious.

'I'm Christine, Erik.' I smiled, feeling so happy now.

'I know C-christine.' He said with a laugh, it was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard. Then there was quiet for a moment, as I let my legs dangle and my body rest against the cage.

'Can you s-s-ing C-christine?' he asked, his voice had so much power to it, even with the stammer. I nodded,.

'Not very well.' I sighed, I had always wished to sing, but suffered terribly from fear of singing in front of people, I was not a performer like Papa, he loved the crowds I feared them. I had no confidence in my voice, I knew I did not have that beauty like other girls did. I was in fact very plain.

'C-could you sing for me?' he asked embarrassed, I was a little shocked at this request, but found myself nodding anyway, then heard the dragging of chains, as he drew closer to me, so I could now see the cuts around his eyes, I wondered what other damage had been done to his covered face? I breathed in deeply and sung almost in a whisper.

'_Melody, melody, melody, melody_

_Sung so melodiously_

_Melody, melody_

_My kind of melody_

_Gentle and flowing and free_

_Soaring above ev'ry rooftop_

_Whispering under each tree_

_Melody, melody_

_My melodie de Paris_

_Paris is the rain_

_Paris is the pain of a lover's goodbye_

_It's the stare when your eye meets a stranger_

_Ever dangerous_

I heard him gasp and stopped quickly, looking down at my hands feeling very foolish.

'Th-that was beautiful Ch-Christine, very beautiful.' He was wide eyes and his mouth open slightly, as he looked at me, I giggled.

'Can you sing Erik?' I asked, I loved saying his name it was beautiful like a new sensation that made shivers run up my spine.

'Y-yes, but I don't like to.' He whispered, I smiled at him, showing him it was okay.

'I don't like it much either, I wish I was a great singer though, to be on all the beautiful stage's just like Papa.' I sighed longingly.

'You will C-Christine, I-I know it!' he said, and for the first time I heard confidence in his voice.

I beamed at him, then felt the cage come to a juttering halt.

'Y-you must go!' he said urgently, I let go of the cover and slid back down next to the driver, looking forward I realised we were no longer surrounded by woods, but now by a field, almost a meadow, but there were other tents around the meadow, large ones much like the one's in the camp, they were all in a circle, other cages surrounded ours now, where we had stopped and outside the meadow could be seen roads leading into villages.

The gypsy didn't say anything simply jumped down and walked away, untying the things of the side of the cage, I looked round and saw that all the other gypsies were doing the same, I watched as Timon's large figure embraced an equally disgusting looking character who emerged from the largest tent in the circle, they gave cackling laughs then slapped one another's backs, before he began bellowing.

'Right, same as always, stalls to be set up, cage's stripped down, punters will be here at noon, everything to be ready understood?' The gypsies nodded, and raced off minding their own business. I was about to lift the cover again and see if Erik was okay, but Papa came round the corner.

'Sweetheart, Timon's going to show me where I'm to be, you stay here okay? Look after my violin, I'm trusting you.' He smiled, kissing my forehead, putting the violin case into my hands, I smiled at him, giving him a squeeze before watching him walk away.

I scrambled up to the cage, and lifted the corner of the cover, peering in at Erik, who was rocking with his knees pulled into his chest.

'Erik?' I whispered, his eyes opened and he dragged himself painfully to me again, I smiled and pushed the violin case through the bar's he gasped when he realised what it was.

'I-I can play it?' he asked amazed.

'Of course.' I knew Papa wouldn't mind.

I watched as with shaking fingers, which were slightly blue he undid the metal of the case, it was if he was holding his breath, I noticed as he stretched his hands opening the case, touching every part of the leather, almost lovingly, the deep scars around his wrists beneath the chains, they were blistered and boiled. I suppressed a gasp, but had tears in my eye's how could anyone be so mean? So cruel, I didn't know! He picked up the violin, the material on his face moved up slightly, and his miss matched eyes shone, I knew he was smiling which made me feel all warm inside. He put the violin to his cheek and shoulder, his long arms holding it tentatively, his eyes closed.

Then he put the bow to the strings, I nearly fell backwards, I gasped, and felt myself be pulled forward by some unknown force, surely this wasn't possible. This sound that was being produced, it was so sad! So upsetting that actual tears rolled down my cheeks, each note told a story, one of abuse, of pain, of longing. I let the tears fall, as I wiped my eyes and watched him play, his hands moving expertly. It was breathe taking, so beautiful, I watched as I cried, noticing that tears fell from Erik's eyes also.

The cover was stripped away, and the harsh light fell upon Erik, who didn't seem to even notice as he continued playing, I pulled back from the bar's slightly that I clutched to.

But then I realised it was Papa and Timon staring into the cage, Papa looked at Erik in wonder, whereas Timon looked ready to kill.

**I hope you liked it!**

**Please review, and tell me what you think!**

**Thanks so much!**


	5. Chapter 5

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**Hmmm angels wings it won't let me put it on here butt i put it on my user page tomorrow so keep an eye out:D hope that makes sense and thank you so much!.**

**Hope you like this!**

***now ownership to me, story belongs to Christine Stein***

Chapter 5-Erik's POV

It felt like magic, as the violin was in my hands, my sore hands. It took away my pain, as the beautiful music surrounded me, taking away everything, I forgot the cage, I forgot the stench, and for that moment even forgot my face. It had been too long since music had taken me wholly, my hands used the bow to caress the beautiful horse hair strings which let out a sound so sweet, it was beautiful, beyond beauty, so stunning it made me weep, oh sweet music, how glorious it was how I had forgotten how glorious music could be, how it would take me away from all the ugliness of this world, from everything, oh how I loved this sweet sensation, the beautiful hold, that no loving arms would ever give me. Music held me in that way I had longed for since being a young boy. But then the sensation was broken, ripped down around me like a curtain maybe, showing me the garish light of day, of reality. There was a savage pull at my chains, and the music stopped, I fell with a crash to my front, the violin falling from my hands. I gasped and looked up through the bars, there he was Timon standing with all his greased and disgusting glory before the bars, but beside him was a shorter man, whose eyes were of the deepest navy, a warm coco head of curls, and a beard to match, he gave a gasp, but Timon growled.

'So, you decided to steal did you monster?' Timon snarled, pulling my chains, tighter, my arms throbbing as I was dragged forward by my wrists.

There was a scream as I was dragged further, slammed up against the bars.

'No, please, I gave it to him, oh Papa please.' I looked over my shoulder and saw that the girl Christine was begging up against the bars now.

'This is your daughter?' Timon growled, plucking the violin through the bars.

'Yes, Christine, come here.' The smaller man said reaching a hand to Christine, who jumped down, her big navy eyes filled with tears as she looked at me, my body crushed against the bars.

'I apologise Daae, this is a monster, a bastard monster, he probably threatened your daughter, I shall beat him if you wish.' Timon gave a savage pull on the chains again, my ribs crushing against the bars; I thrashed wildly, begging to not be beaten.

'Do not worry Timon; I think I can muster a suitable punishment.' Came the nicer voice of Christine's papa. My heat raced, he was going to hurt me! But why? How? Christine had said her Papa would of been fine with me playing his violin, I shouldn't of trusted her! Why did I? I felt the chains be released, I slumped down.

'Fair enough Daae, don't beat him too much I need him for the performance.' Timon gave a sickening laugh and left.

I scrambled back, my eyes wide as I looked upon the man, Christine sobbing clutching to his hands.

'P-please, h-have mercy.' I begged.

'Shh, my child, please I shall not hurt you.' The soft voice came again, I looked up and saw the navy eyes looking at me shining, looking sad. Christine by his side. 'You play very well, who taught you?' the voice asked me, I did not say anything, but covered my head.

'Please I shall not hurt you my child, come its okay.' I looked up and saw that he was reaching through the bars of the cage with the violin. 'Come on, come and play for me, I wish to hear you again my child.' I looked at him, he was smiling warmly. It spooked me, no one smiled at me, I was a monster. I did not deserve smiles.

'Papa won't hurt you Erik, its okay.' Christine smiled at me, beside her father, wiping away her tears, they spooked me for some reason, the little pearls didn't look right falling down her face. I scrambled forward through the dirt, through my urine covered straw, reaching with my fingers which shook with fear towards to the violin. My fingers took the mahogany, my eyes never leaving Christine's father's face, I was waiting for him to snatch it back, to hit me, to beat me, I didn't know but I expected something, anything, surely this was a trick.

'Play my child, just like you did then, just relax and play, anything you wish.' I looked from the violin to the man's face, he now had his hands resting on Christine's shoulders, they both smiled at me encouragingly. I was so frightened, yet put the violin in the correct place, closing my eyes, and began to play. I heard them both gasp, as I played, I was startled, but then the hand came, the one that always came with music, taking me, lifting me higher and higher of the ground, soothing my sores around my wrists, soothing all the pains that covered every inch of my body, I played and played, until I was panting, tears down my face, playing the beautiful song my Mama had forbidden me to play, but I never understood how could she not see how beautiful this music was?

'Doesn't he play lovely Papa?'I heard Christine's little voice say.

But I did not open my eyes, just keeping them close happy to remain in this ecstasy that the music created, allowing it to hold me tightly; I never wanted to open my eyes, ever again, if I did I would only see ugliness, for what this could not be real, surely it was some cruel dream, no one had ever shown me kindness before, never, I was as my Mama had told me time and time again 'a foul and disgusting beast,' no, no kindness was ever shown to me, so why was this man and his daughter showing me kindness? There could only be one explanation, a dream or a cruel fantasy.

'Please open your eyes Erik, I promise we won't hurt you.' Christine said, oh how beautiful her voice was, how beautiful she was, I trusted her, I hardly knew her but I trusted her, I peeled my eyes open, and she was sat on the side of the cage, holding to the bars, her father beside her looking at me with his navy eyes wide, his dainty jaw dropped.

'My child, you are very, very gifted. Who taught you to play?' He smiled at me with his perfect teeth, I clutched to the violin tightly. Not knowing how to answer, not wanting to answer at all, but I took a glance at Christine and caught my breath.

'I-I taught my-myself Mons-sieur.' I whispered, feeling foolish, avoiding both sets of navy eyes. There was a booming laugh which caused me to flinch and fall to the floor.

'I have played upon the Opera Populaire's stage, but never have I ever heard such beauty, you have a gift my child.'

On hearing of the opera house my head lifted up quickly, my bedroom floor had been covered in newspaper, to give me warmth against the cold winter's nights. As I had lain amongst it, I had read about the new and beautiful Opera Populaire, how it could hold hundreds of people, all of them who would gaze down upon the ridiculously large stage, so large I could not even imagine ever performing on it, but yet when I closed my eyes and really thought of it, of the people clapping cheering me, not screaming, or crying or trying to run from my ugliness, but happy for me, about me. I shook my head.

'W-h-what is it like the Ope-era?' I stammered helplessly, trying to drag myself towards the bars now, still clutching the violin. I wanted to hear tales of the Opera Populaire, of how beautiful it was, how perfect. In truth I was jealous of this building it was beautiful and proud, and I was not. How was it that even bricks could be more beautiful than me, why was that fair?

'Well how about Christine tells you, I should tell your master about your talents, he will be impressed!' The man smiled at me, but on the mention of 'my master' I began to panic, my heart raced, my mind went white.

'No-no! Please! No, d-don't get him, p-please!' I begged, frantically, knowing if Timon came back he would beat me savagely. I was in enough pain as it was I didn't need to be beaten again. I felt tears form in my eyes, thinking of how the whip would strike me again and again.

Christine's father took a step away from the cage, raising his large hands, I flinched, covering myself, waiting for blows that I knew wouldn't come because of the bars.

'Calm, its okay if you wish for him to not know then I shall not tell him. Now, how about Christine stays with you and tells you about the Opera Populaire and I will go and get you something, are you performing this evening?' He asked me warmly, I was scared by his kindness; this had to be a trick.

'Qui Monsieur.' I nodded.

'Well I shall come and see you afterwards and give you what I have for you.' He smiled at me, taking the violin through the bars, then he turned to Christine. 'You stay here mon cherie, keep an eye on your friend for me, make sure he doesn't come to any harm, stay safe I will be back soon.' He kissed her cheek and stroked her hair, as he held him tightly. A stab of jealously ran through me, I longed for love, to be held, to be embraced, to see Christine, beautiful Christine be kissed and loved, the smile playing across her lips was like a horrible torture itself.

I found myself staring at Christine, she sat on her knees on the ledge of the cage, her big eyes fluttering beneath her fan like lashes.

'Papa likes you Erik, and you play wonderfully.' She smiled at me, my face was sweating under the material, her smiles made me go all hot and my tight cheeks ache.

'M-merci C-Christine.' I stammered, hating myself, I even made her name ugly.

'You wish to know about the Opera Populaire?' she asked, leaning so she was against the bars, her tiny hands mesmerised me, they were so small, she was small in height also, I knew I was freakishly tall, but she was tiny, and if I had stood next to her on level ground she would only just make my shoulders.

'Qui, if-if that's okay.' I whispered, looking away from her, but shuffling ever so slightly closer.

'Of course, well I was only little when I was there, but I remember the stage being very big, and there being lots and lots of candles, so many they lit the entire room, there was so many people in the audience I lost count. Papa played in the orchestra, but I watched and I saw the beautiful dancers, oh Erik, they were so graceful and beautiful! And the prima donna too, she was so grand, and her voice was superb!' Christine said with a huge smile, her face alight with passion.

My stomach did a strange flip thinking of that beautiful building, in all its glory, how stunning it must be for Christine to say so. But what I said next took me by surprise and made me hang my head in shame.

'Y-you could be a s-singer C-christine.' I said quietly.

She giggled wildly, then lent forward.

'Can I tell you a secret?' she whispered, still giggling hat beautiful glorious sound that I wished to never end. I nodded.

'Well, one day I wish to sing on a stage, like the Opera Populaire, with Papa in the orchestra.' She smiled at me widely.

I thought about this for a moment, about how since I had heard Christine sing that beautiful little song, I had not stopped thinking about it, about how it had filled my every sense, about how it was beautiful and fresh, yet strong that it made me feel safe, and as if I was going to visit the beautiful mysterious land I was certain Christine had come from.

'Y-you will Ch-Christine, you s-sing like an angel.' I said slowly, trying my hardest to say her name without a stammer, but failed miserably. I watched her beam at me, her hand reach through the bars and touched mine that was flat against the dirty floor. I jumped back, nearly falling, she had touched me! She had touched me and not died, or turned to stone! I looked at her in wonder as she looked confused.

'S-sorry.' I said tears rolling from my eyes, they were tears of joy, this angel had touched me.

'Papa said there is an angel of music Erik, you play the violin so beautifully I think he visited you.' She grinned her hands still clinging to the bars, her coco curls dancing down her shoulders, near her waist, a purple bow holding them out her face.

'A-angel of-of music?' I asked confused.

'Qui-' but before Christine to continue, I heard jeering laughs and when I looked over Christine's shoulder I realised it was the group of gypsy children, I groaned.

'Look, it's the girl and the freak!' the largest one laughed, he was tall and ugly, with no front teeth from fighting, and his hair long to his shoulders. The group around him laughed. Christine turned to look at them, I watched her head bow and her eyes drop. They stopped near the cage, the largest coming closer.

'Now, now, what have we here, you're a bit too pretty to be hanging around with the monster aren't you?' he came closer to Christine now, she looked at her hands.

'What can't speak?' one of the ugly pug faced girls asked, clinging to the large boys arm. 'God what a pair the monster and the speechless girl.'

They all laughed, I watched Christine's fists go tight.

'He is not a monster!' she shouted, her voice loud but not powerful, or confident.

I looked at her in confusion, though her back was turned, she was standing up for me? Why? Foolish girl, she would get hurt! She jumped down of the cage ledge and stood before it now, they all laughed and began circling her, she seemed to shrink as they did so, I clutched to the bars.

'Not a monster? What do you know?' The fat boy asked.

'I know he isn't a monster, he is a boy!' Christine said almost pleading.

They all laughed again, the girl shoved her hard.

'Aw, just a boy aye white skin, you know the monster will take pretty girls like you, into his cage and never to come out!' she snarled into Christine's face, who was now on her behind in the middle of them all.

'Yes, he takes them inside then devours them with his monstrous ways!' the fat boy laughed spitting to the floor beside her. I saw black, shaking my chains.

'L-leave h-her alone!' I roared, stammering, but not caring at all. I was beyond enraged how dare they hurt Christine!

They all turned to look at me, even Christine whose big eyes were filled with tears.

'Oh you want to play monster, come on then.' The largest boy laughed, he lifted his fist as he walked closer to the cage, he threw hard and a stone left his hand, pelting me in my chest, I groaned as it sliced my flesh, the other's howled with laughter, picking up stones and joining in, laughing and laughing, I folded over, more and more gashes coming to my skin, then I heard it.

'Stop it! Stop it now! You brute!' The voice was almost a shriek, as I looked up, noticing the stones had stopped being thrown now, but I looked and saw Christine throwing her fists into the largest boys back, he was at least a head taller than her, but she didn't seem to care.

'You're hurting him! Stop it!' she screamed, hitting him again, and again, the boy turned to look at her, his eyes wide with surprise, he grinned strangely at her giving a chuckle.

'You fight well little bitch, but you are picking the wrong side, you would be welcome here with us, just forget the monster.' He said with a smile, then walked away, the girl snarling as she walked past Christine and the fat boy looking at her in wonder. I was frozen in disbelief, she had saved me! She truly had!

'Oh Erik, are you okay?' Christine ran to the cage, jumping up to the ledge, I looked at her for a moment unable to answer. 'Erik?'

'I-I'm fine.' I said staring at her in disbelief.

'Oh they were so cruel, how could they? How could they be so mean?' she said shaking her man of curls frantically, looking at me worriedly.

'C-Christine, merci, you-you helped me.' I said quietly, not knowing how to thank her, never had such kindness been shown to me.

'Of course I did, oh Erik, you're bleeding, here-' she undid the now lop sided bow from her hair and passed it through the bars. 'Use it to wipe the blood.' She smiled, I smiled beneath the material, it hurt to smile I had not done it in so long, but now it felt right to smile upon this fallen angel. I took the material with a shaking hand from between the bars, I accidently felt her skin on her tiny hand, it took my breath away, as my cold fingers touched her warm flesh, she gave me another smile, then sat back on her knees.

Our eyes held for a while, and I lost myself in the deep blue of her orbs, they were beyond beautiful, so very, very beautiful.

'Time to leave now, your father wants you.' A harsh voice barked, Christine turned and jumped off the ledge. Timon now stood before the cage.

'Okay monsieur, sorry about today.' She said to him, looking so tiny and helpless beside the brute of a man who was double in size and mass.

'Do not worry.' He barked, she gave me one last look and scampered away.

I watched her run, the meadow grass up to her knees, the curls bouncing on her back. Timon looked after her also I noticed, this made my stomach turn for some reason.

'Come, little corpse now is the time to shine is it not. Goffery, Jaun come on in, you are to clean it up, I want this spotless.' I backed up against the bars until I was as far away from Timon as possible, he had two mean with him, this was a first usually the battle was just me and Timon, I wondered what new torture was put in place for me. But saw that the men had cleaning equipment. He undid the bolt on the cage, and the floor positively winced under his weight, the two men gagging at the smell of my cage. Timon as usual had the long whip in his hands, he waved it threateningly. My heart smashed against my chest, I thought of anything other than Timon and that whip. The men began to clean, but I noticed their eyes never left me and my mask.

'Little corpse don't look so scared, you have a little friend now don't you, though her dear father despises you I hope he beat you well!' He laughed into my face, grabbing my sparse hair.

'Stand.' He bellowed.

I did, and felt my fists clench, my teeth bare, for some reason I wanted to seriously hurt this man.

'My, my, is that anger little corpse?' he laughed, beer on his breath, as the whip was brought up high and down onto my shoulders, I fell to my knees, the men cleaning stopped and watched as I was beaten until I bled, I did not cry, I did not make a sound, I knew Timon hated that, he hated not knowing my pain. He grabbed my neck.

'Oh, so we are made brave with the thought of a pretty wench, are we?' he slammed me against the bars, then snatched rope from his belt, tying it around my wrists by the chains, then to the bars themselves, I wondered what he was doing, the rope was bound to my ankles also again tied to the cage. I thrashed as he stepped back, grinning, I realised now I was tied up liked Jesus on the cross, I thrashed like a wild beast, only the chains harsh laughter came. I was in agony, but tried to think of something anything, my mind thought of only one thing: Christine.

I thought of her beauty, and her voice, and her smile. How she had stood up for me. I as certain if I thought of her then I would be okay.

Timon grabbed me, shoving rope round my neck, forcing my head up as he tied it tightly to the bars behind me. He then ripped away the material from my face, the warm late afternoon air blowing against it, hitting it in one giant wave, one giant wave of cruel reality, I felt the reality consume every inch of my ugliness, from the high cheek bones, to the repulsive veins, to my smashed in nose, and bloated lips. It all hit me, making me choke, my eyes slamming shut.

'Now I wonder what would the little wenches reaction be when she saw you for what you really are? Nothing but a hideous beast, one who earns me a good penny. Get ready corpse your public awaits.' He whispered close to my ear, causing me to shiver.

His laughter filling my head, mixed with the screams to come of the public who would come to gaze upon my cursed ugliness.

**I hope you liked it!**

**Please let me know what you think of it all, whether or not it's what you expected, good, bad, or ugly.**

**The next chapter is a biggie, so please stay tuned.**

**You are all so lovely!**

**Thanks again**

***reviewers get to hear Erik play the violin***


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you all so much for your reviews and follows! Lovely peoples, sorry about you having to wait so long!**

**Oh and good news! I found the PERFECT vision of Christine, but I have found her, look at the story's pictures, that's a beautiful lady called Clare Doyle, and she is EXACTLY how I imagine Christine, and that's the same for Diamonds in Persia too!**

***once again this wonderful story line belongs to Christine Stein***

Chapter 6-Christine's POV

I held onto Papa's hand as we came out of the tent, there was something different about the camp now. It was strange, the camp had seemed so peaceful before now, the gypsies all seemed to have a job, they had leapt from the carts and got straight to work, busying themselves out of my sight. Now as we left through the tent, I realised under the dusky sky that the meadow field was now completely full of people, the air stank of strange substances, bitter to the nose, and made my nostrils sting, the sky was full of noise which rose up to challenge the suffocating smells of burning meat and fire wood, screams, shouts, laughs all of them filled the air, mixed in some strange form.

The people I realised were all in gipsy clothing, but a few were in what I would call 'normal' clothing, as in like mine and Papa's. Beautiful young ladies walked passed in dress, their hair up in tight buns as they laughed, young gentlemen followed them eagerly in suits, holding plates of food and bottles of beer. It was strange seeing these people, i made me feel uncomfortable, the further we got into the field the larger I realised the crowds of people where, I could barely see in font of me now, people were crammed together as they walked, all of them in fine clothing like I had seen the rich people wearing in Paris. Papa excused us we could get through, I clutched tightly until we reached a stall, it wasn't even a stall, but three boxes turned over covered in a white sheet. People walked happily past it.

I clutched to Papa tightly, in his one hand he had the violin case, I also noticed he had a little case in his hand also, he placed them down gently, taking out his violin from the larger case and smiling at it fondly, my Papa sure did love his violin, it was a gift to him from my Mama when she was alive and on the base it said:

'_Tout mon amour__mon beau__mari. Maria x'_

_(All my love my __beautiful__husband__-Maria)_

I always adored reading this little message, it was like meeting a piece of my Mama, I could remember very small details about her, her smile, her eyes, but nothing else, this made me terribly sad, but by seeing this message I knew how much she had loved Papa, and I was determined to love him just as much as her. But the other case I was confused about.

'Papa, what is in the other case?' I asked lifting it up, Papa smiled and took it from my hands, opening the dark brown leather case, and revealing a small violin.

'I thought we could give it to your friend, Erik.' Papa beamed.

I grinned back at him, what a lovely idea! I squeezed him tightly giggling.

'Oh he will love it Papa!' I laughed as he spun me around tickling my sides.

'I hope he will, he is a very talented boy, I's like to speak with him more.' Papa said spinning me.

'Ohh qui Papa, let us go tonight! I would love to speak with him again!' He put me to the ground tapping my cheek.

I watched as Papa climbed onto the made platform, the masses of people still walking pass not paying any attention.

'What are you going to do Papa?' I asked confused.

'I'm going to play Christine.' He smiled at me warmly, then put the violin to his chin, and shit his eyes as he always did then began, putting that bow to the strings, and with one stroke the whole meadow was transformed.

The sweet sound seemed to be able to change everything, now the ugly noises were not ugly, the voices, the cackling, it was all in a strange hush, as every head seemed to turn to look at my Papa who was letting this beauty into the world. I smiled and took a seat beside the platform, watching him play was beautiful.

Now before him stood what seemed every single person, they all crowded around, their eyes wide, their mouths slack, as Papa allowed them to taste the beauty of real music, it filled the air, and the people whispered of my Papa's brilliance.

I smiled so widely I thought my lips may rip, Papa played for what felt like a life time, and I sat looking up at his closed eyes wondering how he knew what to play, and how to captivate the audience. The music he was playing I had never heard before, it was stunning, breath taking, it came its almighty climax, the sounds clashing, Papa opened his eyes, and gave a huge smile the audience before him roared with applause, he smiled giving a bow, as they shouted for more, throwing money, and stamping their feet.

'Play again Monsieur!' they shouted out.

Papa gave a hearty laugh, then began again, the people falling into the same trance like state as they were before. I had heard this piece before. I lifted up the little violin case, blowing a kiss to the closed eyed Papa; I snuck off between the legs of the people all looking enchanted up at the source of the music. Papa wouldn't notice if I was gone for a few moments, he was playing beautifully he didn't need me.

I darted between the people; there were so many every way I looked! People after people, I noticed now there were other stands like Papa's but I couldn't really see and besides I wanted to see someone specific, I wanted to see Erik, I was so excited to give him his gift, he had played so wonderfully on Papa's violin, so I was certain he would love it.

I held it tightly to my chest as I ran on, a slight gap in the people allowing me to quicken my pace. Poor Erik, those people had been so mean to him today! I knew bullying was common within these camps, but they had been so cruel, I had not been able to stand it, Papa had always said stand up for what you believe in, and I know it wasn't very lady like to leap onto that boy, but he was hurting poor Erik so much, Erik was my friend! I was not going to let some bully hurt him!

I was a bit scared now, I knew the bullies would hate me too, as well as Erik, but I wasn't too fussed, Papa had said to make friends, and I had a friend, my special friend Erik, he was so extraordinarily talented, but also so very sad, I knew he cried a lot his miss matched eyes showed me that, I wish Papa would persuade Timon to let Erik live in our tent and not in the nasty cage.

I was relieved when I could see the top of Erik's cage, it was covered in a red velvet, people were standing around ten feet away from it, gasping and pointing at the sign 'The Living Corpse,' I felt my eye brow cross, Erik had called himself this, but I found it strange, he wasn't called that, he was Erik!

I bit my lip, and ran as fast as I could to the side of the cage, to the back part where the people couldn't see me. I scrambled up, about to shimmy under the velvet cover, when I remembered what Papa had said: 'always knock, or let people know your there, your habits of sneaking up on people is very bad Miss Daae!' I straightened the bow in my hair, and held the violin case behind my back.

'Erik, it's me, may I see you?' I whispered.

There was silence.

'Erik?' I said a little louder. Worrying slightly.

'No-no p-please.' I heard a choking voice groan.

'Erik? It's Christine.' I said biting my lip in worry, was someone hurting him? Was someone in there with him?

I didn't know, and pulled the cover up, so I could see, but fell back onto the hard ground at what I did.

It was horrible! So horrible! I scrambled back, it had been Erik, but he had been chained up, like Christ on the cross! His back had been turned to me, but I had seen the savage slices in it, he was covered in sweat, and his wrists had dripped with blood, as had has black and blue ankles. His head had been collared like a dogs might have been! Why! Why! Why! I was about to get up and lift the cover again to rip away those awful chains. But before I could, I had seen Timon approaching with a group of timid looking people all in fine outfits. I leapt up, clutching the violin case and ran.

I needed to get Papa! I needed him help get Erik free! Poor Erik! I was going against the people now who all walked in the direction I ran in, I was sobbing now in frustration I needed Papa! Erik needed his help! Timon listened to Papa! I squeezed through a gap in the people, they cursed at my as I shoved not caring about manners for now. I was rushing so much that I tripped and fell onto my front, the violin skidding in front of me, I scrambled up, but two podgy hands lifted it away from me, I looked up and saw the three faces of the people who had been throwing stones at Erik, I gulped slightly at their glittering eyes, they looked at me in glee, snatching up the violin.

'Well, well, well what we got here then?' the fat one I had leapt on laughed.

'Please give it back, I need to get back to Papa.' I said wiping away my tears, reaching for the case, which he held just out my reach.

'Have you decided? Have you given up with the beast? Have you finally come to sense?' The taller paler boy asked.

I was so frustrated, I needed Papa! I needed to help Erik, my fists clenched.

'Oh please give it back!' I said trying to sound strong, but the tears carried on falling.

They all gave a cackling laugh around me, as they circled like vultures.

'Say you'll be our friend and never speak to the beast again, then we will let you have it.' The pinched faced girl spat.

I shook my head.

'No! He's my friend, and he's better than all of you!' I tried to shout but my voice broke with tears, as I stamped my foot.

Their laughs got louder, from behind I was shoved hard onto the floor, I fell with a cry.

'Come on say it, or I will give you a kicking.' The fatter boy spat, he raised his foot.

But then I heard Papa's voice.

'Christine? Mon Cherie, are you okay?'

The three horrible people put the violin down and raced away, Papa helped me up. I sobbed into his shoulder.

'Oh hush angel, did they hurt you? You shouldn't of left my side Christine, we are still very new.' He soothed me, stroking my hair, picking up the violin case.

'Non Papa! Please hurry, it's Erik, please, he needs our help!' I cried clutching his hand, Papa nodded and I dragged him after me.

People cheered as Papa moved through the crowds, we began to near Erik's cage, but then the night air was pierced. Screams ripped through the tranquillity Papa had created, they ripped through the peace of the now nights sky, it was not one scream but a hundred screams, loud and bone shaking. One by one they turned into angry chatter, and some of them were howling laughs. But all of them came from by Erik's cage, I noticed now as I panted for breath, every other stall was empty now, only Erik's had a crowd, I shoved through, my Papa apologising, we were near to the cage now, nearly at the front of screaming, howling, crying people, we could save Erik.

But then Papa froze, his eyes widened, and he didn't move another inch, his jaw dropped, and his face went pale.

I followed his eyes and worked out why the people were screaming. They screamed because of Erik.

It was as if everything stopped when I looked at his face, the onw that was now uncovered, it was hardly a face at all. How it changed everything and altered nothing. But still it was there, not a vision created in my distraughtness. His face was uncovered by the material, but now covered in skin that was a sickly white, covered in pulsing veins, some large, some small, of red and blues, twisting and wriggling, it was so tight it looked painful, as if there wasn't enough skin. His cheek bones stabbed out beneath the tightness, looking as if they may rip through at any moment. His nose, looked as if it had been clawed away, raised and pink skin that looked like scars jutted around it and over the piercing cheek bones. His snarling top lip was extremely large and bloated, starting off normal and thin at one end then getting larger and larger as it went abnormally across the left cheek of his face. The start of were his hair line should of been was a build up of pink skin raised and sore looking, inside it was a build up of pulsing veins all looking like weedy roots fighting for the light.

But it was his eyes that scared me most, those two huge orbs, like windows to his souls, showed me the sheer agony he was in. I staggered back slightly. How could this be? I felt his eyes on me, those two big eyes, his bloated lips moving strangely as he noticed me, twisting his skull away from me. He began to wriggle frantically within his bonds, they clanged and slinked threateningly, people around me and Papa began to throw things, bottles, corks of off wine, stones, rocks, wood, anything they could, Erik tried to give a scream but the collar appeared to be choking him. It was horrible, so horrible, and his face was so strange!

Papa clutched my hand.

'Christine come with me.' he ordered in that voice he used on very rare occasions, I nodded simply, my eyes wide, and my mind blank, oblivious to the now mini riot outside the cage, I heard Timon's voice, and cheers, then the clink and clank of money. But it all didn't sink it. Erik's face was well that of...well of a Living Corpse. I wasn't sure if I was terrified or beyond disgusted at the people who hurt him.

The cover was closed over his cage now, Papa walking to its side, picking me up into his arms.

'Christine mon Cherie, stay here, and I mean it do not move, I'm going to talk to Timon.' He kissed my cheek.

I didn't even feel the kiss, still in that stunned state. The people were leaving the field now, it was just me the stars, and the navy sky.

I watched as Papa walked off. I sat o n the floor by the cage, I was numb to the world now. So numb it was strange, all I could see in my head was Erik's big eyes, the fear, the passionate hate for the people in the audience, the bloated lips, the high cheek bones, the face that well wasn't a face.

I pulled my knee's to my chest, and began to rick slightly. I wanted to look at Erik again, to see if he had the hate in his eyes for me. I didn't hate him! Not at all! I was scared of him now, but I wasn't sure why I was.

Papa then returned with Timon, the larger man was dripping in sweat, I hated him so much, never in my life hated before, I had never needed to, but I had this hot feeling in my tummy every time I thought or looked at Timon, I was sure this is what hated of the most strongest kind must of felt like. Him and Papa were talking, nearing Erik's cage.

They stood outside it.

'Let me get this straight, you will let me take your wages for a month, and get this creature to perform even better and earn me more, then I get to keep the money, but only if I give him to you?' Timon said in low voice.

'Qui Monsieur.' My Papa's voice came.

'How do I know you won't run? It brings good custom.' Timon spat.

'I have a young daughter to feed, I would hardly run.' My Papa's voice was cold.

'Very well, but good luck with it, it's a beast you know, a disgusting beast.' Timon climbed the front steps of the cage, and unlocked the huge padlock, Papa gave me a smile from the steps, I got up but he signalled for me to wait. I didn't understand what he was doing; maybe he would help poor Erik.

I watched him and Timon go into the cage, and there was a few moments of nothing but rattling chains, then Papa exited the cage with Erik in his arms. I raced to his side, Timon giving me strange look as he turned away from us.

I peered at Erik, his face was covered now, but he was asleep, his eyes clamped shut, blood leaked from his mouth, his chest was shaking and bloody too, his wrists were still in metal rings the chains had been cut from them, but the metal seemed to be embedded into his slender wrists. I gulped, my stomach plummeting, my heart racing as I looked at his face, he was just a normal boy I kept telling myself.

Papa walked through the camp, the audiences had left now, only a few stragglers left behind, fires were everywhere as gypsies sat in groups under the navy sky. I raced after Papa he walked frantically, the gypsies all turning to look at us, all of them going pale faced and muttering about the 'Living Corpse.' I wiped my teary eyes which stung, beyond afraid of seeing those bullies again, clutching tightly to the two violins, we finally reached our tent, and I was so happy to be out of the view of all those eyes.

Papa put Erik down onto the little sofa seat. His body shaking.

'Erik is going to live with us for a while Christine.' Papa told me, sitting on his bed, patting beside me. He wrapped his arms around me, as I stared at Erik.

'Christine mon Cherie, Erik is just a boy, the exact same boy you've made friends with, we are going to look after him now, I'm going to help him. He is still the same Erik, he just is slightly different, he is very scared Christine, terrified, look at him, he is very scared and troubled. I know you are frightened of his face, but there is more to him than that, you're only young but sweetheart I promise I will show you how much Erik has within him.' Papa smiled at me.

'He has only ever been kind to me, just because he has a different face didn't mean he was cruel inside, it's just so different...' I said quietly.

'Qui, but we are all different are we not? Look at Timon, then look at you!' He said with a tired laugh.

'You're right Papa, poor Erik. Why are they so mean to him, I thought he was going to die, Papa! I thought they were going to kill him!' I cried.

'It's because he is different Christine, now you see different things can be seen as special or as well different. Imagine if unicorn's were released into the world. What would be the first thing people would want?'

'Their horns?' I said confused.

'Exactly, now a few people would treasure the unicorns keep them safe, and others would be so desperate to capture the difference, that they would become cruel to the unicorns, steal their horns, and in their desperation turn very mean.' Papa said.

'I see now.' I said quietly, walking to where Erik lay twitching. I knelt beside him, my heart squeezing tight.

'Papa, why does he twitch?' I said wiping my tears.

'Because he is scared.' Papa whispered.

My heat dropped.

'Come on now Christine, time for bed I think, leave Erik I will bandage him, you have had a very strange day.' Papa sighed, looking at me and Erik strangely. I nodded, looking at Erik one more time, before quickly dressing and falling to sleep before my head hit the pillow.

I awoke and Papa was snoring beside me. My dreams had been troubled, all of them of Erik crying, which made me terribly sad. I looked up from the bed and saw Erik's sleeping form, I bit my lip and tippy toed to his side, kneeling beside him.

He was sleeping, covered by a quilt and bandaged in several places. I felt my heart do something strange as I shuffled closer to him, his long thin hand hung from the bed, I bit my lip and held it, it was ice cold! He was so peaceful, so very peaceful, as he slept, he gave tiny purring snores, which were like a strange music. Poor, poor Erik, what had his life been like? I just wanted to cry at the thought of him being hurt, and in pain. He was older than me by at least five years but still, he was so kind, so caring, I had only spoken to him a few times but he was the perfect gentleman, not like those normal boys, who yes did have faces, but were so incredibly mean it disgusted me. I had never felt like that in front of Erik, I always felt strangely like a princess, he always spoke to me with such politeness, and always looked at me in a certain way, I felt very happy around Erik. So why should his face change that? I knew people avoided ugly things, but it was just his face, his soul was beautiful.

I smiled, he was beautiful. Very beautiful. I held his hand tightly, I knew his face would take a while to get used to, but for now I would look with my heart.

**I hope you liked it!**

**Yes, the un masking came very quickly didn't it? I hope you don't mind, there's a lot for me to work through on this story, and it was crucial for me to do it this way!**

**Please let me know what you thought!**

**Thanks so much**

**Mia xx**


	7. Chapter 7

**Raise your hand if your an awful authoress *raises hand* I cannot apologise enough on regard of my lack of updates, I wont be surprised if you're all angry at me! I promise to make it up to you, Diamonds in Persia is just getting into its main part, once that kicks off, it will run smoother and I will be able to write this more! I promise!**

**I just want to take a moment to say WOW at purple99sg****, she is a complete angel is going to draw me up some pictures of scenes from this story, she is super talented, and keep an eye out as I'm planning on using her work as my story icons!**

**Thank you all!**

***once again story belongs to Christine Stein (my wonderful friend)***

Chapter 7-Erik's POV

He was in my dreams as always. He was so beautiful, so very beautiful. His hair was a deep brown, which was always perfectly side parted, that matched his perfect eyes, both of them rich a deep, with long lashes that were much like little fans. His smile was big, chiselled almost upon his face, framed by two perfect dimples, that sat on the round cheeks, which were covered in skin so milky white and unblemished it looked as if it had been carved from stone, he was around 5 feet six tall, an average height, normal. Everything about him was sickeningly normal.

This man, this perfect model of a man, with his sweet words, and soft laugh, was my tormentor. One who made my gypsy master seem like a sweet man. He had not hit me, well on occasion he had threatened. But the reason I was caged, beaten, flogged, tied and bound like a beast was all due to this man.

Julian De Chagny.

It was always the same, it wasn't really ever a dream, but a strange memory or recelation. But whatever it was, it had happened, and came back every night to torment me.

I was hiding, huddled in the corner of my attic room, trying frantically to hide my face, I hadn't meant it, it had seemed like a good idea at the time, my mind had told me to show Mr Chagny, who I had seen kissing my mother, what she was hiding, my face. But as soon as I had stepped down the last step, and seen my mother break away from Mr Chagny's lips that was when I knew it was all a mistake.

Why I hadn't run quicker I didn't know. Something had kept me on the stairs for a moment too long, my shirt had been grabbed and then, my mother's hand had fallen down onto my face, my bare face. The mask was gone, and my sensitive flesh was open to her abuse, and she let it rain down upon me, one slap after the other upon my high cheek bones, the skin screams, as did my mother.

'Beast! Foul beast!' she had leant down, she was completely gone now, utterly deranged, as the abuse came from her mouth like poison, drowning us both in hate, it was the last straw, as if all the abuse, the hate, the pain, had all bubbled up like a giant ugly boil, that had now burst and drowned us both as she screamed. But then the soft voice had come, that charmingly soft voice, that made every word sound like butter softly melting, I hated that voice more than anything, more than my mother's beating's.

'Madeline mon armour, let him go. I will deal with him.' He said looking at me with those burning eyes, he held my mother's kissing her lips before me, as I turned and fled. Now I wanted to get away as fast as I could. I wasn't able to do it anymore, tripping up the stairs, bashing m shins, I ran in fear from Julian de Chagny, who hastily followed me. I had to hide. I had to! He would hurt me! He would hurt me with his wicked words, the thing was unlike Mother, Julian had this way, this wretched way of making me hate him, and making me believe every little word he said. His perfection, his beauty it had all startled me. He had shown me my face, his first torment had been a scientific investigation, leaving me in a room full of mirrors, that was when I had found my ugliness, that was when I had realised, and m world had come crashing down, that was when reality had struck. Julian had pulled down m hopes that my Mother would grow to love me, but by him showing me my face it brought me a reality check. My mother would never love me ever, I was ugly, beyond ugly, and no matter how hard I screamed, no matter how many mirrors I smashed, or how long I banged at the door for, I would always, always have this face.

Tears had smothered my sore cheeks as I had desperately looked for somewhere, anywhere to hide, to get out of Julian's reach, if he could not see me, he would not hurt me. He would not torment me. But my attic room was less than bare, and all that was in it was my straw bed and my toys of metal, nowhere to hide.

Then the door had shut, and that had been it, the signifying of an ending. I had backed up, as Julian had walked, the floor boards creaking under his perfect shoes, and his perfect outfit of navy and white. Perfection, perfection, perfection! Whilst here I was an ugly monster!

'There you are.' Came the soft voice, walking towards me. I scrambled back.

'N-no.' I stammered, twitching.

'You're to come with me Erik.' He reached down trying to take my hand, I hit the wall I moved away so fast.

'No-no!' I panted again.

'Cover your damn face then come with me.' his voice grew now, making me shake.

'No! W-where ar-re you taking me?' I had screamed, as with his two perfect hands he had picked me up by my cut wrists, and dragged me across the floor. I had screamed, and screamed, mainly for my mother, though I knew she would never come. Julian said nothing, but kept his soft hands deadly tight around my wrists as he tugged me down the stairs.

'Stop screaming!' Julian's voice was now ugly, yes! He was ugly like me now! In my fear I gave on last scream to my Mother, but that was when Julian's fist had come down onto my face.

'I told you to stop it!' he said but as I had looked up, blood coming from the gap in m face that was my nose, I saw that he was still smiling, that perfect smile woven on his cheeks happily, that terrified me more than the beatings.

I had curled up into a ball, trying to get away.

'Mo-mother merci, mer-merci!' I had sobbed.

I thought perhaps my mother would see and take pity, but as always in the dream as she had done in reality.

'Erik, how many times have I told you to not call me mother.' She would always whisper, I was not sure if that was part of the dream or had happened.

But I know for certain, as Julian lifted my wrists again, she had turned away.

I had screamed all the way through the forest, Julian didn't seem to care, he just tugged m arms tighter, then we had come to a clearing. With a hard shove, I had been thrown to the floor.

'Isn't it strange, how you're so ugly, you're slightly appealing to me.' Julian had purred, running his hands across my cut arms. I had frantically scrambled back, but he let me know there was no escape by clutching to m wrist. I had been so confused, why was he saying such a thing, I never understood and still didn't.

'Ohh, you fear me! Strange as I should fear you, you're face is hideous, yet I wish to touch you, to feel you, to see your bare skin.' He whispered in a strange voice.

'P-please take me h-home, I p-promise to be a good boy.' I had begged, I knew I hated home, I hated this man, but something had told me I was not coming back out of the dark forest.

Julian had thrown his beautiful head back, and laughed, sickeningly, how I had wished to hurt him, to hit his beautiful face and curse him a thousand times, with a face like mine!

'Mon diue, my little fool you are not going home, never again. You have a new home now.' He smiled down at me, his thumb rubbing circles on my inner arm, I never took my eyes of his hands, hating them, and their beautiful softness.

'No-no!' I had screamed a new home? I wanted to return to my home, or no home, or to be free in the wild.

'Qui, my little friend. You must understand, your mother does not, and will not love you ever. You're a beast. This new home is much more suited to people like you. Here they are now.' He had lifted me my arm from the leafy floor, I screamed, but was silenced quickly as I watched the trees almost part themselves, and saw the gypsies for the first time. For a moment I had been fascinated, but as I was dragged by Julian, who smiled happily and all but skipped to the large and strange carriage, then I had realised this situation was worse than my old one.

I had closed my eyes, believing that it would all go away, but it didn't and the soft voice of Julian was met by one so cruel so loud and bellowing that I had the urge to cling to Julian, and to never let go.

'Monsieur! Here he is, as promised.' Julian said almost happily, throwing me to the floor. I felt my face go bare, the cover pulled away, as I had curled up and trembled, unable to think, to move, there was a gasp, then a gruff laugh.

'Qui, he will do nicely. Thank Monsieur.' The bellowing voice filled the woods.

'You're most welcome, Erik I shall give your regards to your mother.' His soft voice then disappeared.

I had tried to run, got up and tried to flee, anywhere but here was a good place, even home with m hating mother. But as I had tried, two hands had grabbed me, not soft perfect hands like Julian's, but rough hands, ones that clutched to my ankles, and dragged me to my cage, that was to be my home.

I don't know how long I wept for, sobbed, screamed, and shouted, but I was thrashed harshly, chained and bound like a wild animal. As I was tied, as the rain had fallen soaking me, freezing me, I learnt to hate Julian, my mother's lover, the man who sent me away and began the real pains. I knew his face, that beautiful face would haunt me until I die.

I sat up quickly, Julian's deep brown eyes burnt into my head, I was sweating, a soft dark all around me. I then noticed the cover over me, the quilt, the pillow, the bed. Where was I? With a quick panic I realised this was not the cage. I went to jump out of this strange bed, it seemed strange trying to flee comfort, but I was used to pain, and discomfort now and knew that no master would ever be kind to me. I knew in the cage I was relatively safe.

I went to leap from the bed, every inch of my body aching, I put my hand to my face, sighing with relief at realising the material was there, covering my disgusting face, the one that had led to my mother's hatred. The one that made me a freak, a monster. But as I went to leap away, m body screaming in agony, I noticed I was not alone.

My breath stopped. I looked across from me, and realised I was in a large tent, on one of the small beds was a tiny figure, covered in a white quilt to her petite chin, was Christine. Why was she here? I didn't understand. I began to panic, but found myself strangely drawn to her, and without a thought I was limping to her side. Each step ached, and I wheezed, but still I was drawn to her, the pain seemed like nothing, she was mesmerising, I stood beside her now, shaking all over, I was terrified of her for some reason. I watched her sleeping, fascinated at how peaceful she was, she didn't shake, she didn't sweat, or even twist and turn, but she simply lay still, tucked beneath the sheets, a small smile playing on her perfect lips, I touched my own when I looked at Christine's, how horrid mine seemed.

'Ch-Christine.' I whispered, stammering. I hated my stammer, so much, I knew Christine thought I was a fool because of it, I just struggled so hard.

'Ch-Christine, Chh-Christine, Chris-tine.' I stammered again and again, whispering, tears were formed in my eyes, why couldn't I just say it! Why was I hideous all over, and even my speech was stammered and ugly. I let out a sob. Tears fell down my face for some reason, I scrambled back, everything ached. I turned away from Christine, hating how my ugliness, stained her beauty, even being in the same tent as her, I was so confused, so hurt, so emotionally worn, I just wanted to sleep forever and never awaken. I then felt a slight breeze on the back of my neck, making me turn, I then saw that the tent doors were slightly open.

That was my gate to freedom. I was not chained, I was not barred, or tied, but free, it was as if I could run now, as if freedom waited before me, it called to me, to run now, and be free. But for some strange reason, I found myself looking at Christine again, she was so beautiful, I felt so repulsed thinking of her beauty, but she was, and she had shown me nothing but kindness. I jumped back from her, no. I was a beast; I needed to run, before I hurt her and anyone else.

I limped to the door, taking deep breaths. I was shaking now, with pain, with anticipation, the two metal rings still remained around my wrists, so tight the skin had grown around them holding them in place, as if they were part of me now. Showing I was nothing but a slave, a chained beast for now and ever. I needed to get away. I gave one more glance at beautiful Christine, then limped through the tent doors.

Once outside, I was terrified, it was silent, I knew it was dawn, not yet morning, the sun was beginning to show her face over the trees, but she was still an orange not yet her morning attire of finest yellow. There was a nip to the air, that made me clutch to my bare and beaten chest. It was strange being free, I had not been out the cage in a very long time. So freedom was making me scared, m head was slightly hazy, and my limbs ached. But I sighed at the feeling of the dewy grass beneath my toes. I wriggled them, it tickled slightly. These feeling were so strange, as if I was learning to feel again.

Everything felt so new, so strange, so scary, the air smelt somehow different from outside the cage, less like m own urine and more fresh and beautiful, everything seemed so perfect. I crept, well limped through the tents, praying no one would hear, and especially not Timon, I didn't dare think what would happen to me, if he saw me out the cage.

Why was I out the cage? I didn't understand, why was I in a tent with Christine? Then with a gag, I remembered, I had fainted, well passed out, everything had blurred, but she had seen, I remembered seeing her terrified face, and her Papa's, Christine had seen m face. I let out a sob into my shaking hand, how awful, she would hate me, despise me, be sickened by me, as would her Papa, but then why was I in the tent with her, perhaps a trick of Timon. I wasn't sure, but I now had the desire to run and run fast, to get away, to forget everything.

I moved like a shade, an injured spirit that moved like a shadow against the dawn and the tents. I would not be heard, though tears washed down my face, and I wished to sob and weep, I held it in, I had to get away.

The tents were behind me now, and I was at the beginning of the tree line, and there I saw my escape. My breath caught, and I stopped sobbing, I forgot my pain, as I saw the three tethered horses. They had been my only friends since my arrival, I would sit for hours and talk to the beautiful creatures, one was a bright chestnut, one a grey and the other jet black. The one with the black coat was my favourite, she was beautiful, slight and very spirited, she was known for biting and kicking at Timon, which would always make me laugh, but she would then nuzzle me gently through the bars. I would run away on her.

On seeing me the horses whickered, their ears shooting forward, as I limped to the horse of black, running my shaking fingers along her nose, her face, for so long I had wished to stroke her properly, to love her without the restriction of bars. I for some reason found myself sobbing into the horses mane, the softness of her hair catching my tears, finally comfort came, though in the form of a horse, she did not run, did not care of my face, of my ugliness.

'W-why d-do I h-have to be u-g-gly?' I sobbed each word into her neck, the mare gave a little knicker and a nuzzle to my back.

Then I felt a hand on me, I spun so quickly I fell to the ground, scrambling away.

'Mer-merci, don't hurt me!' I cried out, covering my head.

But no blows came, I felt two strong hands lift me to my feet.

'Erik, mon diue, are you alright?' I looked up at the voice, and saw Christine's Papa looking down at me, his cocoa eyes looking confused.

I froze, why was he asking, why had he not dragged me back to my cage? He knew of my face, he would be like Julian, with soft words, and good looks he would destroy me. But in fact he put a hand to my shoulder, I flinched wildly jumping back.

'Erik, I won't hurt you.' He promised, with a soft voice. 'Did you sleep okay? How do you feel?'

My mind was spinning, why was he asking?

'P-please d-don't take me back to the cage.' I cried out.

'I won't, however I asked a question, how do you feel?' He said again, wondering about how I was. I was confused, why did he care.

I simply raised my wrists, where the metal was being sucked into my flesh, it stung, throbbed and ached like hell.

'I saw that, perhaps I can try and get them of later.' He said simply. 'Do you want some breakfast?'

I nearly fell to the ground, what had he just asked?

'Erik?' he said looking concerned.

I staggered back, I was beyond confused.

'W-hy are y-you h-elping me?' I asked, tears in my eyes from frustration.

'Because, you are my responsibility now. I saw you last night Erik, I saw what happened, and I'm now in charge of you, obviously Timon still owns you, but I'm going to teach you to play the violin, if that's okay, you will stay with me and Christine, so no more cage, and I will look after you.' He said with a big smile.

I was violently sick for some reason, this was all too much to process, and water came from my mouth, with sickening gags.

'Oh my boy, take a breath.' He said kindly, going to touch me, I nearly dived to the ground.

'Y-you're going t-to t-teach me?' I asked in wonder.

'Qui.' He smiled.

I couldn't believe this! He was going to look after me, no more cage, no more pain, he was going to teach me to play properly, to enjoy my music.

'Y-you s-saw my fa-ace Monsieur.' I said quietly.

'Qui.' He replied.

'B-but y-ou st-till wish to help?' I was

so confused.

'Qui, it's just your face.' He said simply again, he reached forward, and put a hand on my shoulder, I shudder, twitched and my eyes clamped shut as I whimpered.

'It's okay, I won't hurt you.' He said sadly. 'I'm Gustave, b the way Erik, what were you doing anyway?'

'I-I-I was t-rying to r-run away.' I whispered. 'But the h-horses...' I turned away, and ran my long fingers through the black hair of the beautiful mare.

'Oh, you like horses?' Gustave asked me, with a smile, not caring I had said about my trying to run away.

'Q-ui.' I nodded.

'Christine adores them, I wish I could get her one, one day perhaps.' He smiled with a sigh.

I smiled at the thought of Christine, beautiful Christine. She liked horses too.

'Are you going to come for breakfast Erik, or are you running away still? I know Christine has a little present for you.' Gustave smiled, walking away from me.

I stopped and watched him, my head cocked. Here he was giving me the choice to run, but yet I followed him, limping to his side, I wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was a desperation to be excepted, to finally be wanted, to be appreciated as a being, not a beast. He said he would teach me to play the violin, that he would care for me. Not only that, his beautiful daughter had a gift for me. Me! The Living Corpse, the one who was thrashed on their fifth birthday for wanting mothers kisses. I was intrigued.

Scared, yet intrigued. What where my choices, to run and be caught again, by god knows who, or try and put my faith in people one last time.

I turned away from the mare, letting her mane fall, and walked beside Gustave, I was certain he smiled as I did so.

**Thank you so much!**

**I hope you liked it, please let me know!**

***reviewers get to cuddle erik***


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